Love and Losses

This is a particularly difficult topic to explore but in the spirit of honesty and transparency, here we go.

So, after deciding to try for a second baby, we were lucky to fall pregnant on the 2nd month of trying. We felt blessed that it happened so easily. Then I went to my 7-week viability and dating scan. Being the 2nd pregnancy, I went on my own as I didn’t want my hubby to take days off work for everything this time. That seemed to me to be something you only worried about the first time around.

I wish he had come.

Straight away the Dr said that I was measuring a lot smaller than I should be. After asking if I was sure about my dates, which I certainly was, he suggested I wait a week then return and see what had changed. This was a difficult week as I’m sure you can imagine. I had no symptoms of miscarriage, no bleeding, no pain, but when I went back a week later the baby was no larger and the heartbeat was so slow that he had to tell me there was no way this pregnancy was viable. So straight to the obstetricians and he suggested I have a D&C straight away. It was evening by this stage, so I was booked in for the following morning. Everything went smoothly, and we returned home upset but coping. We were told that a lot of women have at least one miscarriage in their lives and then went on to have successful pregnancies. We were extremely sad but doing ok. We hoped that we could close that chapter and move on. It certainly did seem to be very common. As anyone else who has experienced this will understand, people seem to come out of the woodwork and start telling you all their stories. But why does no one tell you these stories until it happens to you?

Then, after waiting the requisite time to get back to a regular cycle, we decided to try again. This time we got pregnant the first month. Surely it was meant to be! We were so excited that we hadn’t seemed to have any problems getting pregnant. We also just assumed that we had already had our one miscarriage, which after everyone’s stories, seemed to almost be a rite of passage, so things would surely go smoothly this time, right? Wrong.

So, the first few weeks we were understandably anxious. We just wanted to get to that 7-week scan and know that everything was ok. The day came, and all went smoothly. Things were going well!

Then at about 9 weeks, I had a bit of pain and a small amount of blood. Nothing major. I kept telling myself not to overreact. I kept thinking I was overly sensitive and worried because of the previous miscarriage, but these were different symptoms but I was sure things were fine. I called my amazing Obstetrician, however the receptionist told me he was away for the weekend. She called another Obstetrician who worked in the same hospital and arranged for me to go in straight away. Hubby met me there and we kept reminding ourselves that everything was probably fine.

The Dr welcomed me into the rooms and said that he needed to do a transvaginal ultrasound to get the best images. He also said he would have a good look for a minute or two first, then explain to me what he found. Thankfully he said this, or the silence would have been even worse. I remember lying there holding my hubby’s hand thinking “all will be fine, but it’s good to double-check, how silly of me to make my hubby leave work, it will be nothing”. Then the most horrible words left the Dr’s mouth.

“I’m really sorry, but there is no heartbeat”

I wailed. 'Cried' would not describe it well enough.

He explained that I would start to bleed heavily sometime over the weekend but that if I wasn’t in a lot of pain, I could try to let it happen naturally. If not, call him on his mobile and he would do a D&C anytime over the weekend. I was thankful for his understanding but hoped to avoid surgery this time if possible. So, we went home and luckily my folks were happy to take Alexander for the weekend. We could grieve alone. I slept a lot and don’t remember much else. Bleeding started on Sunday and was initially just like a heavy period. Overnight however I started to have very severe pain. By the morning I was ready to go to emergency I was in so much pain but to get to the hospital we would drive past my obstetrician’s office, so we decided to go there first. I could hardly even sit on the chair in the waiting room. My back was excruciating, and I felt like I was having labour contractions. One look at me and he took me straight upstairs to prep for a D&C. I don’t remember how long I waited or anything like that. But I do remember seeing the anaesthetist and explaining that it had happened so quickly that I hadn’t been able to ring his office for a quote. (This is something we must do in Australia at a private hospital. They give you a quote and then can’t change it. Weird but whatever.) This anaesthetist was so nice. A lot that I have met don’t seem to have a great bedside manner but not this guy. He took my hand and said not to worry. He would bulk bill it as it seemed I was having a rough time. He was so sincere, and this small gesture really made me feel like someone cared.

I don’t remember much after this. It was difficult to tell friends again. I had hardly told anyone I was even pregnant, but I needed my close friends to know about the loss to help me deal with it. It was also hard for my hubby. They are often overlooked. Lots of care and concern came my way but not many people consider how hard it can also be for the man’s emotional being. Regardless of what he was feeling, Craig was a great support throughout the entire ordeal and I think I grew to love him even more.

So, there it is. My story of loss. Just another of the millions of stories of women all over the world. But if writing all this down helps me to heal a little bit more or helps another person suffering through a similar situation, then it’s worth it.

My tattoo to signify my 2 miscarriages

P.S In the months and years that followed, even after the birth of our second son, I still felt like I needed to think about my losses, to be sure never to forget them. Not that I ever could, but a small part of me felt that if I didn’t consciously think about it every day then I wasn’t giving them their due. This was quite an awful feeling. When I thought about it I became sad, but if I didn’t for a few days I would feel guilty for continuing with life and being happy. So, I decided to get my first ever tattoo! It was the best idea I think I have ever had. I got 2 small birds on the inside of my left wrist. It is small and delicate but holds great meaning for me. This way, every time I see it I can acknowledge the past but don’t feel the need to dwell on it. Most people also assume that it represents my 2 boys, which I am happy to go along with, so I don’t need to explain it to anyone who isn’t close to me. Now I have a permanent scar on my body that represents the emotional scars those babies left behind. Just like my caesarean scar is a physical reminder of childbirth. I know there is no chance I will ever forget those souls that flew away before I got to meet them. Those souls made me a better mother. Who feels grateful every day for my 2 beautiful boys. Who now knows not to take fertility and the ability to bear children for granted. But more about that in my next post…...

With love to you + your tribe

Casey xx